Master Wolte and I are alone for a few minutes. I am pacing around our little area, trying to keep a lookout while the others sleep and walking along beside me, Hanse has chosen this time to speak with me one on one.

"Right now, there are two things you should focus your limited 'free' time on: drilling in your 'Mech with the BTCT and reading this," He says while handing me an old leather-bound book before continuing, "reading the book Colonel Greer gave you, Art of War, should wait until you are done with this."

"You mean I'm going to have free time?" I roll my eyes while trying to chuckle; the latter is forced and doesn't sound like I find much humor in it.

"You have to make free time. Don't think that leading means you do everything yourself... learning when and to whom to delegate responsibility is the most important thing you can do to help you free time to learn about leading us on and off the battlefield."

I'm not sure I follow, "Come again?"

"You remember the story I told you when you first came on-board? The kid and his ax?"

Of course I remember that one: kid joins a logging crew on trial and on day one chops twice as much as the next best... day two it is barely better, day three, middle of the pack, day four, half what the best is doing, and by the end of the day on day five, not even half what the worst has done. Every day he has worked longer and harder... but lost ground. As he sits dejected, the foreman comes up and says something like, "I'm gonna have to let you go at this rate, but I'll give you one more week to get better if you promise to take the time every day to sharpen your ax."

I nod at lesson, "so I might be willing enough, but if I don't sharpen my ax I'm only going to drag us down... right?"

"You got it, Padraig. Make the time to get better at this and you will not only get better, but you might keep us together and alive."

"No pressure, right?"

He laughs, "never said that. If my years with Colonel Greer taught me anything, I would have to lie to say that. But in spite of... or maybe because of... the pressure, he took time to study and learn right up to the end; I think that is an example you would be well advised to try to follow."

I nod again.

Looking down at the book in my hand, it seems that it's well worn leather cover must be much newer than the pages themselves... they are laminated with a plastic of some kind, but their age and wear imply they must have been very old and well used before getting treated. While there is no title on the cover, inside I find one: "The Three Meter Zone" by J. D. Pendry, Command Sergeant Major, USA. Beneath the title is a sentiment, "To Chief Master Sergeant Jody Jorgensen: Congratulations on your promotion to Chief Master. Our Command Chief Master recommends this to all our staff NCO leadership and I trust his judgment. May those you lead from your new post learn from you as you grow better with this." The signature below it is a bit hard to read, it looks like an "A"... with a stained and illegible rest of the first name, a fairly readable last name that looks like "Kercnsky" and dated "12 May 2784".

Hanse taps the book, "This was written for those in small unit leadership roles in an ancient land military called the United States Army, but the things he talks about apply to what you are going to need to learn in a hurry. Oh, and when you are done with it, I expect to get it back in as good of a shape as you got it."

"It says something about an NCO... what is that?"

"A Non-Commissioned Officer. The leaders at the line level... what I am would have been considered an NCO. Ground troops in the AFFS, for example, still have them in much their original role. You are a newly minted officer, but you have no training in leading small groups... which the seven of us essentially are now. This book distills lessons you would have learned in officer training or serving under other officers and with other Master and Senior techs. It is the closest I can come to giving you a crash course in becoming a leader for us. I know it helped me when I was promoted, even though I had had strong examples to follow."

"Thank you, Hanse. I hope I can do this... I don't really..."

He smiles as he interrupts, "You'll do, Padraig. You're already off to a reasonable start. Keep working at it and you'll do nicely."

"May I still ask questions?"

"I expect you to... though if they are serious, it might be good to ask when I can speak with your privately first."

That makes sense. "Works for me."

"Good. Ok, off to bed for me... don't stay up too late, we will need you fresh tomorrow, too.

I have been walking my 'rounds' for about three hours when I hear an unexpected sound... a crunch on broken glass just outside the bay.

My heart races and I clear my sidearm so quickly that I never even think about it. It came from an area a bit behind me and almost across the spot our sleepers are in, but I don't want to wake them it if is just a deer or something...

Slipping as quietly as possible around the resting bodies, I reach the door just as there are more crunching sounds towards where the 3L stands. In the radiant starlight, I see a human form move towards the crouched 'Mech.

"Halt! Don't touch that 'Mech!"

"Padraig! Stop shouting and put that gun away!" It is just Fatima... though I wonder what she has in mind.

"What are you doing out here? You had me thinking someone was sneaking up to steal your Raven."

"It makes more sense to me to sleep in here and be ready to move if we need me to than to be caught sleeping down there."

That makes a lot of sense, I wonder why I hadn't thought of it.

"Besides," she continues a bit more quietly, "I can't seem to get comfortable enough to sleep on that cold deck plate."

I understand that one, too. In fact, I had been wondering the same thing, maybe i'll sleep in the 2x when I let someone relieve me tonight.

I holster my weapon and offer, "you had a great idea. Didn't mean to holler, but I... well... get some sleep, Ma'am."

"I will, Sir." A graceful feline climb with soft words to her 'Mech, and she is gone into the dark womb of her cockpit.

Above me, the Banner blazes mightily... none of the constellations are familiar, but I think we are much closer to one of the spiral arms and this sky filled with brilliant stars seems nearly as bright as our moons back home. Behind me, someone snores loudly and I remember my rounds.

…...

Sonya startles me, "Lieutenant? It'll be daylight in four hours. You were supposed to get one of us to relieve you."

"Well, all of you need your sleep."

Even in the dim shadows of the bay, I can see her roll her eyes. "And you don't, right?" I see her shake her head, "look, I'm not trying to be disrespectful of your rank and all, but you need some sleep or you'll get us killed making poor decisions when you are weary... or taking too long to make good decisions because you are sleepy. I'm rested and you aren't. Go take a nap at least."

While she is gesturing towards where the others sleep, I say, "Ok, I'll get some sleep, but I'll get it in the 2x. Fatima... um... Lieutenant Al-Zafirah is in her 'Mech also."

"Do you think I could learn one of them? The 'Mechs?" she rather breathlessly asks.

"Well, I hope so... gonna give you the chance if we can get the Black Knight working to where Lt. Al-Zafirah will make the trade."

"Thank you, THANK YOU!" She quickly throws her arms around my neck in a hug worthy of a small bear, then backs off equally swiftly with an embarrassed look. "Sorry, couldn't help myself, Padraig. Sir. Lieutenant." She giggles and I have to admit to myself that once again I am clueless about women.

In the quiet cockpit, I wonder about the day now past. I woke this morning with uncertainty and now need to sleep in spite of every significant mooring I had depended upon having been ripped away. I seem to have no sense of what I am in the middle of... just the urgent knowledge that if I give in, the flood I paddle against will instead capsize my life and pull me under to drown. Worse still, now there are many people who are depending on me... that thought almost brings fear past my defenses... almost.

People I was learning to respect, appreciate, maybe even care for... people like Ray or Colonel Greer, or even Marty, they are gone. Erased from life, but not my memory.

The least expected thing happens... a tear escapes my left eye. While my attention is diverted, another slips out of my right. Suddenly, I have a full fledged jail break, salty streaks running down my face to where my wispy almost-beard pretends to dominate. But the onslaught continues, ignorant of my masculinity or the facial hair that should have defended me. Each lost person I have known since I joined the Green Zone Raiders is brought to mind, and I am forced to admit that I am weeping for them. I'm very glad I can at least hide this embarrassment in here... nothing like letting the others know how emotionally weak I am. What would Master Wolte think if he could see me right now?

Somehow, my mind washes itself by letting these eye rivers overflow... and sleep sweeps the last puddles away with the closing of my eyes.

…..

"Come with me," Master Wolte says quietly as we finish a morning meal not that removed from last night's... more meat from the damaged cooler.

I follow him into what were once parts of the ship that I had never entered before. He turns a corner and enters an ash-filled room not that different from many others in here, but his seriousness tells me this is important.

"You have inherited the Colonel's command by virtue of a vote... what was his is yours now."

"Not much left, is there?" I start, but he holds up a hand.

Pulling what must be burnt cloth away, he exposes a small safe set into the wall near the end of what I guess was a fold-down bed. Part of me feels like I don't belong here, but a fascination holds me as the Chief spins a small dial different directions until...

Click! The sound is like a bell in the silence.

Turning a small handle, it sounds like bolts are drawn, ending with a sharp Chnk!

He swings the little door open and I can see inside there are papers, a small box, an odd looking laser pistol, and an old fashioned envelope.

"These are yours." Hanse says while lifting most of them out.

I am still rather surprised.

"Hold out your hands, please, sir."

I comply, more out of respect for him than anything else. He hands me everything but the laser, and in all honesty, that is the one thing that interests me most. The box, however, is incredibly heavy for it's size, and I nearly drop it.

"What the...?"

"You will need that to get us supplies and maybe information."

I'm at the very least puzzled and open the lid; nestled inside are what look like twenty and fifty gram gold bars. No wonder it is so heavy, there must be a half kilo in here. There is a smallish box tucked into one corner as well, but it only contains data chips.

"Be careful with those," Hanse gestures. When I nod, I guess he correctly figures I'm thinking about the bullion and follows on, "the chips are more valuable than the metal. There are four c-bill accounts represented there, two marked "a" and "b" especially are important... used together they access a c-bill account with enough reserves to ship two lances of 'Mechs and the full crew to the nearest hiring hall. If we ever get to a safe haven to access them, such a reserve may be able to get us off this rock and back to a hiring hall. The main GZR accounts won't be available to use until we are safely away from here and can make a claim against them at a hiring hall or the MRB."

Again, I'm confused, "how do you know all this?"

"I had an identical box in a duplicate safe hidden in my quarters. We were at opposite ends of the ship, a catastrophe at one end wasn't going to strip us of the means to recover."

"You knew this was going to happen?"

He shakes his head, "No, sir. We planned ahead years ago. If you have a plan to take care of most surprises, you can usually recover from the things you overlooked."

"Oh." That makes a lot of sense. From the look on his face, I think I need to learn from what he just said. I wonder, "So did you get your box already?"

"You know where our quarters were."

He's right. There is a huge hole open to the sky that was once the aft end of the ship.

"So, how do I get supplies?"

"Find a town and buy some."

…..

Ensign Lloyd Marks sits down across from me at a makeshift table. Between us, we now have a fair sized display surface that he and Sonya have pulled from the least damaged section of Tornado's bridge. It isn't prefect, but with power from a generator and three solars that Sonya and Lisa put up, we are are now able to look at a regional satellite map without squinting at our pads. The map finishes loading.

"Here," he points. The whole thing is still so zoomed out that I'm not even sure where we are... Lloyd's speed at reading the map defies my comprehension.

"Here what?"

"Oh, um, sorry, sir. Just a moment."

He zooms in centered on an area near where he pointed. It looks kind of familiar, maybe near us?

"This is where we are," he points to the new center.

There are no indicators or anything on the map, maybe he saw the lay of the land from the bridge while we were landing. Maybe with Naomi's help I could have figured this out, but Ensign Marks really is good at this.

"These three places are closest."

He seems to be pointing to empty spaces... that can't be right. I use my pad to zoom further in on each blank, only to realize that they all have varying sized spider-webs of what must be roads. Looking back at the larger display, I recognize that if I knew what to look for, I too could probably have spotted them. Based on the grid, they are all at least forty kilometers out, and the one he originally pointed to is actually the farthest. I remember Ray telling me that I needed to learn how to read maps, maybe I've found the perfect teacher.

"And this is the one I would suggest trying." He is again pointing at that more distant one.

"Why not one of these?" I gesture at the other two.

With a patience I hope I can have some day, he explains, "This one would be perfect if there weren't this ridge of hills and these two rivers. The closest road," here his hand is tracing a line I would have missed, "runs so far out of the way that it would actually take at least twice as long as either of the other two."

"Well, the 'Mechs can go overland," I counter, then almost immediately wonder out loud, "well... if there aren't too many trees or..."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"How would you use the 'Mechs to carry supplies or purchase more transportation?"

Wow. Now that is thinking ahead. "Excellent point. Are you sure you wouldn't rather lead?"

He smiles, "No, I kinda like having input but not having the pressure to actually decide, delegate, or do."

"Fair enough, I guess." My attention returns to the map, "Why not here, then?"

"Two reasons. First, while it certainly is big enough, it may actually be too big."

"Would you please explain that to me?"

"Sure. This area here may represent either a small VTOL airfield or dropship landing zone. These shapes may represent a base of some sort."

"So maybe we can get out of here!"

"Are you sure enough you're willing to bet our lives?"

The question has me stumped. "Why?"

"Where would a dropship land that would be near supplies while also close enough to our wreckage here to easily walk 'Mechs? If they are already there or show up while we have people in town, will our people have time to escape and also warn whomever stays behind?"

Wow. "Good point."

"The other is more apparent when we zoom back to where we originally were." As he says this, the map zooms back out.

I have no clue. I guess I could try to bluff, but right now I rather learn all I can. "I don't see it yet... please show me."

He smiles and I have to wonder if he can guess the choice I had. "Yes, sir," his tone is positive and professional, "this long line, this is the main road to Gergash, the town we dropped into when we arrived. Their spaceport is the logical way off-world for us... if we can get a dropship in. But it is also the most likely place to look for us... racing to get away. Wouldn't it fit that they might even be waiting there right now, wanting us to have our hopes up before they deal the coup de grace?"

"The what?"

He chuckles, "it's an old expression roughly meaning the killing or final blow."

"Ah." What he says makes sense. "So, that one being almost the wrong direction is a good thing?"

"Well, several things are going for it."

I'm honest, "I have no real idea, why do you think so?"

He looks at me thoughtfully. "Do you want me to just tell you, sir, or do you have time to try to learn the ways to see this stuff?"

I want to learn, but deep down I have a growing sense of urgency that we must not stay here too long. "I need the help, but I sense we are short on time."

"Ok, the town is far enough away from other places that it will likely have a fair amount of self-sufficiency, but there are no flat areas immediately nearby, so a dropship would have to be out a ways. They will likely have vehicle dealers to support a rural population, meaning pickups to mid sized lorries that we could adapt for four of us to drive. Loaded with supplies and whatever salvage we need most, we can make for whatever shelter I can find... if you still want me to look."

It isn't a question in my mind, "Yes, please look. You are the guru on this, I want your help."

He smiles and nods, "we do the best we can with what we've got."

My da used to say that... I wonder how he is today.

…...

Fatima is looking through the Black Knight cockpit while Hanse and I stand near it's shoulder on a makeshift gantry. Compared to the Ravens, it is a monster. I wonder what it would be like to run her.

My hand is throbbing again, the climb up the ladder wanted for more health it has, and before halfway, I was moving up painfully slowly. I wonder if I've further hurt any of the healing bones or tissue. I know we don't have an unlimited supply of the stuff that numbs everything, but I kinda wish for just a little more right now.

Unexpectedly, Lt. Al-Zafira steps out of the 'Mech with a disappointed look. Master Wolte and I exchange an apprehensive glance as she strides over.

"This isn't going to work for me." She is blunt and matter-of-fact about it.

"What? Why?"

"I do not belong in it. I have a sense of dread and can not do it. I need to stay in my 3L."

"But I thought we agreed..."

"If I thought it was satisfactory. I do not."

Master Wolte's expression is even more surprised than mine, and he opens his mouth to speak...

Fatima, however, cuts him off before he can start, "You have done as requested, Master Wolte... the 'Mech is certainly about ready... but I would die in this 'Mech. You must accept that I will not pilot it; I will leave if I have to... either way, I will remain pilot of the 3L."

I think for a moment about offering her a greater share, but I don't get any sense that she is trying to bargain. She has decided and is done with the possibility.

"No," I say quietly, "I need you with us more than I need to try to prove that I can force you to pilot something you dread. I rather risk dieing in it than lose your presence with us."

Both of them look at me and she offers a slight bow.

"Thank you, Commander," she says.

"Um..."

"No, you have earned the right to the rank. I honor you with it as the Ensign Marks has.

She passes me and heads down the ladder we have used to get up here. I sure wish we could have repaired the stairs, but the priority is the BK, .

Master Wolte looks at me and agrees, "Yes, Commander is more fitting. Maybe you should be in this 'Mech after all."

I look at her, still latched in the bay jaws that have miraculously survived. I'm not sure how we are going to get it out, but one problem at a time.

"Lloyd, uh... Ensign Marks has identified where he thinks we would be best off going to get supplies and vehicles."

Master Wolte nods in agreement, "sounds good, but you need to call a meeting. Everyone will be involved, so everyone should know what is up."

"Ok... but I think we need to get on it, I have a bad feeling about just sitting around."

…..

We are all gathered about the map desk, Ensign Marks is finishing his explanation of why he thinks we should go to Terrino, the small town he had pointed out to me earlier.

"... so the approaches would be easier to find cover along. As you can all see..."

I admit I can't, but am not going to interrupt.

"... this also give us a pretty good chance to watch out for problems if we just station a lookout here," he points at a gap in the rolling hills, "where it is the closest point the open scrubland with it's broad flat surfaces."

I think he sees that we are not quite following.

"While a hot drop would work, an incoming unit would probably want the flats to land in."

Now we are nodding again and he gives us a grin for our efforts.

"So, who should go?"

"We have one small equipment hauler that survived, we might get four of us in there... if we are very friendly."

"If I may?" Master Wolte has something to say.

"Please," I offer back.

"I would suggest Padraig and Lisa go for the first run."

I am about to object, but bite my tongue out of respect... or maybe it is out of force of habit from a couple of years under his leadership as a crew-chief. He is watching me, I think he is waiting to see if I interrupt to say anything. Lisa seems puzzled, but seems willing to hear him out.

"The thought is that they are about the right ages to be brother and sister. Her experience with finance and his authority to make decisions should be a perfect match for this. They can slip into town and make a decent case that with their injuries they need the supplies. Maybe they can even say the pirates got them. Besides, I think we need to keep the 'Mechs close at hand right now and if you," he is speaking directly to Sonya right now, "mean to get qualified on the 2x, we need you to be in it every minute of the day getting good enough to at least walk it with the rest of us."

"Do we have extra copies of the BTCT?" Fatima's question is one I should have already asked.

"Yes," Master Wolte answers. He looks over at me and asks, "do you want your ai moved over, or would you rather start from scratch."

I don't have to think about that one at all, "Please move her over."

"No problem." He looks back at Lt. Al-Zafirah, "I will get her a copy of her own as soon as we are done here, Ma'am."

Anne is again paying attention more than I expect, "All in favor of the plan say aye."

They all vote for it and I have to agree. My vote does come after everyone else has spoken, but it makes it unanimous.

"How soon will we be ready to cut the BK out?" I ask.

"Well, with Sonya working her sims and Lisa out with you, I think Anne and I will probably need until you are back to get everything ready. Besides, we will want to get as much as possible clear of the wreckage in case that bay or even the Black Knight itself are holding up more than we can tell."

I look at Anne and try to imagine her hobbling around with Hanse and have to agree that the process will slow down with just the two of them.

"Well, should we wait?"

"No. If you can be back before it gets too late this afternoon with a second vehicle, then we can run the rest of us up before things close tonight and maybe be ready to roll by morning."

That makes sense. "Ok."

…..

"Lieutenant, may we speak privately?" I ask Fatima.

Her glance appraises me, then nods and she follows me to the foot of her Raven.

"How may I assist you, Commander?"

I guess that rank is going to stick, at least for now... I might as well get used to it.

"I would like you to find a sheltered place to keep an eye on things here; one where you can be powered up and able to run to assist if needed."

"That won't be a problem, I was already thinking the same thing."

I smile, "yeah, most of you seem about ten steps ahead of me. Hope I don't miss something because I haven't gotten far enough along."

"You are doing fine, Sir. Remember, each of us has our own small area to think about, you have all of them now and with less than a day to build the experience needed to be excellent at it. You will be a good leader if you continue as you have started."

"Thank you, Fatima."

"And thank you for not arguing with me about the BK. A woman has got to know her limitations, that large a 'Mech is one of mine."

"Funny, da always said that as a 'man has got to know his limitations'... I guess they are the same."

"Yes, whatever applies to you is appropriate."

I am about to turn when a thought strikes me, "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes, sir... I may not answer, but you may ask."

"If I wanted to get you the kind of food you need, what would I ask for?"

She laughs; it is a beautiful sound, full of musical emotion and honest joy. "Thank you very much for asking, Padraig. I would still need to procure it for myself, but if you see someone selling 'halal' meats, perhaps you can make note of where they are and I can make a personal visit."

"Are there any supplies I can get that fit your needs?"

"Most fruit and vegetables will work, and fish is acceptable also. In an emergency, the Law of Necessity allows that I may eat other things, but short of starving I rather do without than needlessly risk violation."

"I guess I don't understand completely, but I'll try to find out if there are options. Any particular kind of fish?"

She laughs again, "Fresh is best. If it smells of ammonia, skip it altogether."

"Fair enough. Thanks again for keeping an eye on them while I'm gone."

"Safe journey and swift return, Padraig."

"Thank you, Fatima."